THE STORM.

The Northam Advertiser, 20 April, 1912.

The Balla Balla Cyclone.

A NORTHAMITE'S EXPERIENCE.

It will be remembered that in addition 

to the foundering of the Koombana 

with all hands, the recent cyclone in 

the Nor'West was responsible for 

heavy loss of life through the wreck 

of the Crown of England and the 

destruction of several pearling luggers. 

A graphic description of the storm at 

Balla Balla and its disastrous effects 

is given in a letter just received by 

Mr. and Mrs. Thorley, of this town, 

from their son Dick, who left here 

about twelve months ago, and has 

since been engaged in the pearling 

industry round about the locality in 

which the Koombana met her fate. 

Not only to those who know Mr. Thorley, 

but to our readers generally, his vivid 

description of the storm and his 

personal connection therewith, will be 

of interest. He writes:

"On Tuesday, the 19th of March,

the day before the storm started,

my boats were working with five

others about 13 miles north of Balla.

The weather was beautiful, but we

were not doing too well for shell,

and started for Port Hedland about

nine o'clock in the morning, with one

other boat, belonging to the man I'm

working for. We got about 15 miles

from Port Hedland by about ten

o'clock the same night, and it 

commenced to blow and rain with 

a vengeance. 

It cannot be argued that prior to and including Wednesday 20 March, there were NO indications of a storm developing.

We anchored for the night, the wind 

increasing, every hour. At daylight it 

was blowing half a gale, and it was 

impossible for us to go to Port Hedland. 

The seas were mountains high, and 

there was a direct head wind. 

This description matches that of the cattleman on board Bullarra - half gale (from the ENE). One can understand why Captain Allen was deeply worried, claiming that it would be unlikely to make Broome before Saturday, given the 'headwind' and seas described. 

The seas, 'mountains high', were precisely the reason for departing Port Hedland with ALL tanks empty so as not to strike the bar; and strike hard. Koombana, in such light condition, must have rolled and pitched to an alarming degree clearing the bar and broaching open sea. 

Filling tanks in such conditions was never going to end well....

While I was considering where to go 

and what to do, the anchor chain broke, 

and we lost about forty fathoms of chain 

and the anchor. The only thing left was 

to run before the gale, and we did, and

made towards Balla, and anchored

safely at one o'clock in the afternoon 

of Wednesday. It took us about three 

hours to do fifty miles, and you can 

imagine the wind that was behind us 

to send us at that speed.

Only for my knowledge of Balla

Creek I might have been lost. The

other boat that was with my two

did not start when we ran before the

storm, but came later, and didn't

know the way into the Balla Creek,

and had to anchor out and ride the

storm at anchor. To save himself he

had to chop both his masts down,

and it was just good luck that he

rode it out. Of the other three luggers 

that were working with us out

from Balla when we went to Port

Hedland, one was wrecked and one

Japanese drowned. The remainder of

the crew got ashore with great difficulty 

after being three hours in the water.The 

other two luggers are still missing, and 

I fear the worst. There is one white man 

on each of those. When I dropped anchor 

in Balla I went ashore as quick as I

could to see my old friends there.

The motor launch was just about to

start out to meet the steamer (Bullarra)

which was calling that night. The 

wharfinger asked me what the weather 

was like outside, and I said it was bad,

and advised him not to go out. He

said, "I'll risk it." There was a lot

of passengers on board. When they

got outside some of the passengers

went on one of the lighters named

the Clyo. It got too rough for the launch, 

and she came back into Balla leaving 

those passengers on the Clyo.

They were the wharfinger, Mr. Maginnis

Mr. T. Hill, and Mr. Thompson and the 

three of them were drowned. I knew 

them all intimately, especially T. Hill, 

who used to be underground manager 

on the mine here. On Thursday night 

I went up to Maginnis', house. He has 

a wife and mother here, and they were 

by themselves. They were in a frightened

state when I got there, having been

by themselves the night before. All

this time the storm was raging and

increasing. Several small buildings

had been blown down at Balla jetty.

It took me about two hours to walk

up to the house from the jetty, which 

is one and a quarter miles. It was nearly 

impossible to walk against the wind, 

and if I was blown over once it must 

have been a dozen times I was almost 

crawling in some places. When I got there 

I had to nail up the doors and windows 

and make fast everything that was likely 

to get blown away. All the small buildings 

had been blown away by this time. The 

storm was increasing every hour, and at two

o clock it came its worst. I don't know how

the house stood up. You could hear sheets 

of iron flying about everywhere. This is the 

time all the ships and boats were driven

ashore and smashed up, including

those luggers I mentioned in the

beginning of this letter. in the morning 

things did look bad, and the two

women were in a bad way, fearing

the boats were wrecked, but I managed 

to quieten them by telling them that the 

boats would ride the storm safely and there 

was nothing to worry, and all sorts of tales 

to pacify them. But I was certain that they 

were wrecked. I left the house at nine o'clock 

to go to the jetty, and see what could be done 

there, and had to wade through three feet

of water  all the way, the railway line all 

the way to the jetty being completely washed 

away. The next thing to do was to arrange 

about a boat going out to where the ships

were anchored near the island. The

only boat fit to go out in was one of my 

luggers. It was still blowing a gale and

raining, but the wind had gone down a lot. 

I approached the Japanese on board

about going out with me, but they

were too frightened and wouldn't go.

Then there were six of us decided to

make the Japs go ashore, and we

would go out ourselves, and so we

did. We got out after great difficulties

capsising several times. We had a dead 

head wind all the way out. When we got 

near the island (Depuch Island) we could 

see the worst had happened. All the shore 

was strewn with wreckage, and men were 

walking about with no clothes on. We got 

ashore on the island, and were told the awful 

tale — twelve men drowned and three lighters 

smashed, and one sailing ship of 2500 tons, 

and the other ship of 2500 tons driven ashore. 

They expect to get the latter afloat next spring

tide - that is in a fortnight's time. She is practically 

uninjured. 

Then the worst part of the job was getting

the dead bodies and bringing them into 

Balla. We brought four bodies back with us. 

Hill, Maginnis, the second mate, and the 

steward of the sailing ship,"The "Crown of 

England," It was an awful sight, they were 

battered, bruised and cut about, some without 

a bit of clothing on them and some with only 

their boots on. The steward of the "Crown of

England" had a coat on with a lot of rope lashed 

around his chest. He had evidently been lashed 

to a raft or something of that sort. We left the 

Island at six o'clock with the lugger to go back 

to Balla and did not get into the creek until. 

2 o'clock next morning. Four of the men who

went out with the lugger refused to come back 

with us and remained on the island with the 

survivors. It was an unpleasant job sailing from 

six until two, with it blowing half a gale, and those 

dead bodies on board.

Then, came another unpleasant part; that was 

putting them into coffins, they were just black. 

The coffins were made of boxes and the bodies

were wrapped in canvas. They didn't have time 

to get proper coffins made at Whim Creek. But 

the worst job of the lot was to break the news to

Mrs. Maginnis, which fell to my lot on account of 

knowing her better than anybody at Balla just then 

and staying with her the night before. I almost broke 

down doing it. They took the news very calmly and 

braved it like lions, but broke down later on. 

The other eight that were drowned

were buried on the Island! The wind

and rain ceased the next morning

(Saturday), and all the survivors

were brought into Balla, all more or

less cut and bruised about.

Sobering!



courtesy Trove